The Nordics' Revenge
by Jinx5647
Summary: Sequel to The Baltics' Revenge. A certain Dane turns himself into a small, drunk, swearing, adorable child. What the hell are the Nordics going to do? Rated T for swearing chibis. Some slight Den/Nor fluffy bits near the end.
1. Go Away

It was a cold day. Probably around 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

In other words, the Nordics would be having their last barbecue of the summer pretty soon.

But Norway was doing what he did every day, which was reading. He liked to read, especially books about magic and about magical creatures. It was part of the reason he got on so well with his troll and faeries, the other being the fact that he could actually see them. But his quiet reading was interrupted by two sharp knocks at the door.

Followed by another two knocks.

And then just random banging on the door.

Norway groaned and considered his options.

Option 1: Answer door for the winner of the "most annoying person ever" contest.

Option 2: Let the door keep banging for two hours until Norway got a migraine and had to take Tylenol.

He went with Option 1.

* * *

He had barely touched the door when the Dane behind it pulled it from Norway's grasp and ran into the house.

"I'M HERE NORGIE!"

Why didn't he take Option 2? Why?

The Norwegian calmly and coolly replied.

"I know Denmark. I can see you right there. Why are you even here?'

The Dane shrugged his shoulders and flashed a crooked grin.

"I dunno, I was just bored! You have any beer around? Carlsberg, preferably?"

Norway rolled his eyes. "The answer is still the same, Denmark. No. Now get out of my house."

"What if I don't wanna?"

"Denmark..."

"What are you going to do? Set your imaginary friends on me?"

_Good idea, Denmark._

"NORGIE! PLEASE LET ME STAY! I'M SO BORED, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASY PLEASE WITH CARLSBERG ON TOP!"

Well_..._ Norway figured that Denmark probably wouldn't be too annoying if he wasn't drunk.

"Fine. But be quiet, stop calling me Norgie, and don't touch any-"

The Dane had ran out of the room before Norway could even finish his sentence.

* * *

Denmark had found Norway's basement. If Norway was hiding beer from him, this had to be the place where it was!

There he found a bunch of shelves with different bottles and books on them. He didn't care about the books at all. But seeing as he saw no beer, regular alcoholic drinks would do.

And then a small purple book that was open, next to the bottles caught Denmark's eye. It seemed to be recipes for making some beverages. OKAY!

Let's see, that bottle looked like gin, and that one looked like tonic water, and that powder might add flavor to it...and so on and so on until Denmark had a good looking drink.

Denmark sniffed said drink. It didn't smell how Denmark expected it to smell, but hey! He didn't exactly have a degree in mixology.

He drank the drink in one gulp.

Or should I say potion.


	2. Carlsberg

Norway was running all over the house, cursing under his breath.

"Where the hell could that idiot have gone? Where? Where?"

And then he had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he was right as to where he thought Denmark was, Denmark could be in big trouble.

He opened the door to the basement, and went down the stairs.

* * *

"Denmark...are you here? Den-OOF!"

Something had just run into his stomach.

Norway didn't keep any pets.

It was too small to be his troll, but too big to be a faery.

He was pretty sure it wasn't Mr. Puffin or Hanatamago paying him a visit either.

When he looked down, he saw a small figure wrapped and tangled in a bundle of clothing.

Including a very large black coat.

_Uh oh. _

Norway lifted the black coat off the figure, as if lifting a sheet off a child's ghost costume.

* * *

The figure turned out to be a small child, with spiky blond hair and light blue eyes, in a red dress shirt and black pants way too large on him. He gave Norway a smile that could have lit up Oslo.

And then he yelled, "ROOOOOOOOOOAR!" and started running around the room. Norway chased after Denmark before he could hurt himself.

The little boy laughed, "You're it!" and kept running.

Eventually, Norway yelled, "CARLSBERG!"

The little boy did a double take. "Where?! Where?!"

Norway opened a closet door conveniently located in the basement. "In here."

After shutting and locking the door behind chibi Denmark, Norway got Sweden on the phone.

"Y's, N'rw'y?"

"Sweden, bring Finland and Iceland. Get over here right now."


	3. Sharpies

Sweden, Finland, and Iceland were standing on Norway's doorstep when said Norwegian opened the door. Iceland noticed that, for the first time ever, his big brother (God, how he hated saying those words) almost looked...frazzled.

He couldn't help but smirk. "What's the matter, Norway? You want me to call you 'big brother'?"

Norway threw Iceland his world famous death glare. "Don't say a word. There's something downstairs I need to show you."

* * *

Why they were in Norway's basement, none of them had a clue. But Norway was pacing, looking nervous.

Finland spoke up. "What do you want to show us, Norway?"

Sweden added, " 'nd wh'r's D'nm'rk?"

Norway shook his head and opened the closet door.

* * *

A tiny, blond boy with ridiculously spiky hair ran out and started trying to use Sweden as a climbing wall, yelling, "Where's the Carlsberg?! You promised!"

The Nordics collectively gasped. Iceland stammered, "I-is that...?"

"Yes, its Denmark."

The chibi paused and said, "Mark?"

He then took out a Sharpie (don't even ask how he got it) and proceeded to draw all over Sweden's face. Eventually, Sweden managed to pull the laughing little boy off his face and hold him mid-air, upside down by his little leg.

"Wh't h'pp'n'd?"

"I don't know! I don't know! All I do know is that we're going to have to take care of him while I figure out what happened and figure out how to change him back."

Finland took Denmark from Sweden and hugged him. "Aw, but he's so adorable. Do we have to change him back?"

"Well, he's a lot of trouble like this, Finland, I mean-"

At that moment Denmark burped really loudly and began laughing hysterically.

"Well, he isn't much different than he usually is, but he can't fend for himself."


	4. Hair

The Nordics agreed to take care of Denmark on a biweekly basis, and after many games of rock paper scissors, arguments, name calling and other hoopla, it was decided that Norway would have to take care of Denmark first. As the other Nordics left, Norway was waving, and silently cursing under his breath. He took Chibi Denmark and sat him down on the couch. Denmark's wide ice blue eyes stared into Norway's slightly darker blue eyes. Norway started his lecture.

"Before we get started, I just need to go over a few things with you-"

"Wanna play 52 card pickup?"

"Now's not the time, Denmark. We need to establish a few rules-"

"Let's make a snowman!"

"Let's not! Anyway, rule number one: don't go into the basement."

"What is this, a horror movie?"

"No! Let me talk, Denmark! The less comments you make, the sooner you can go frolic in the snow, or whatever you want to do!"

"Forget this! Imma go make a snack!"

"You're something like four years old! You're not making a snack! Anyway, rule number two: I am the boss, or whatever Nordic is taking care of you is."

"That's a stupid rule!"

_And you're a stupid person._ Norway thought to himself. "Rule number three: If I tell you not to touch something, DON'T TOUCH IT!"

"What about this?"

Denmark pulled out the battle-axe he had hidden behind the couch. He struggled under its weight. Norway took it from him and said, "Especially not that!"

"Why not?"

"I said so!"

"And what if I do touch it? Hm?"

Norway thought of a good punishment. "Then I will shave your head until you're bald!"

Denmark grabbed his golden locks and screamed. "I WONT TOUCH ANYTHNG JUST DON'T CUT MY HAIR I LIKE MY HAIR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!

Norway couldn't help but take out a pair of scissors for fun and snip off a bit of Denmark's hair.

He would regret that decision immediately.


End file.
